Classic Poem

I know a lot of folk who think
That God
Is just a great, big tub
Of Grub.
Descanting on His bounty
They will measure
His prodigal treasure
By so many
" Head o' hogs. " " bushel o' grain " or " barr'l o' potatoes! "

But to me
God is the lily's dream,
The low, sweet note
In the thrush's throat —
The sun-beam's glory by a dew-drop caught!
He is the mighty tide
Gripping old ocean's side —
The mountain's thought!